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terrikoI was having a quiet Saturday night, watching Season 4 Dr. Who with Ken and Susan in her apartment. The episode was nearly done when we hear a thump. Worried that it was someone trying to get in to the side door, Ken went to check it out while I opened the curtains... to see bikes and people lying on the road next to a large SUV/truck.
"I think there's been an accident..." I yell to my companions as I run out to the street.
Ken phoned 911 as we got the story while a friend tried to keep the injured guy awake. Jimmy and his friend had been biking to the bars when Jimmy hit a huge wheel-eating pothole in front of our house and went flying over his handlebars, hitting his head, scraping his face and side, and knocking the wind out of him. He couldn't speak, and could barely stay conscious when we stepped out into the road, his eyes rolling back into his head as his friend tried to tell him he'd be ok but he had to stay awake. The car was a good Samaritan who'd stopped, but who took off after making sure we'd gotten 911 on the line.
It seemed like forever before the fire trucks came. Then the police. Then, finally, the ambulance. By this point, Jimmy was responding more, and eventually the paramedics got him to stand up and get into the ambulance. His friend, the cops and the three of us stood in the street waiting for a diagnosis. The friend commented at at least this was Canada, and no one had to worry about calling emergency service. We learned that he was an aerospace engineer at Carleton, and we joked about being totally nerdy in the street. Susan's "obey gravity; it's the law" shirt seemed particularly ridiculous after the accident.
While we waited, we learned that one of the cops had, in fact, been an extra in an episode of Dr. Who. He gestured to his head. "The one where the cop opens his head like this," he said, drawing his hand across his forehead. "I had to stand there while he talked at me." Apparently he was part of an agency that provided cops and robbers (it had a cute name that I don't recall) but he apparently looks more like a cop.
Jimmy, it seemed, was a little drunk and didn't want to go to the hospital for observation, despite showing all signs of a major concussion. We wondered how different the signs of concussion are from the signs of being drunk, but figured the paramedics would be pretty darned familiar with this particular problem. His friend tried to help convince him, between standing in the street fretting with the rest of us.
Eventually, the ambulance took off with Jimmy, leaving the bike he was riding and his friend stuck with us. We gave the friend some bike lights so he wasn't breaking the law directly in front of the cops as he headed off to meet with his friends and tell them about the evening.
Meanwhile, we've got Jimmy's roomate's bike in the backyard, and no one's come to pick it up yet. Hopefully Jimmy's ok! I'm betting he doesn't remember much of what happened, but his friend wrote down our address so eventually someone will come. I hope.
This all happened around midnight. At 2am, we hear something else in the street and open the curtains to reveal... the city's emergency pothole repair crew?! We have one of those? They wave at us, look at the hole, then drive away. WTF?
It seems they'd gone for more tools. Sometime around 4am, Susan tells me, they came back and repaired the hole. Leaving many other holes around it, but at least none of those will eat an entire bike wheel.
So... yeah. Surreal Saturday.
"I think there's been an accident..." I yell to my companions as I run out to the street.
Ken phoned 911 as we got the story while a friend tried to keep the injured guy awake. Jimmy and his friend had been biking to the bars when Jimmy hit a huge wheel-eating pothole in front of our house and went flying over his handlebars, hitting his head, scraping his face and side, and knocking the wind out of him. He couldn't speak, and could barely stay conscious when we stepped out into the road, his eyes rolling back into his head as his friend tried to tell him he'd be ok but he had to stay awake. The car was a good Samaritan who'd stopped, but who took off after making sure we'd gotten 911 on the line.
It seemed like forever before the fire trucks came. Then the police. Then, finally, the ambulance. By this point, Jimmy was responding more, and eventually the paramedics got him to stand up and get into the ambulance. His friend, the cops and the three of us stood in the street waiting for a diagnosis. The friend commented at at least this was Canada, and no one had to worry about calling emergency service. We learned that he was an aerospace engineer at Carleton, and we joked about being totally nerdy in the street. Susan's "obey gravity; it's the law" shirt seemed particularly ridiculous after the accident.
While we waited, we learned that one of the cops had, in fact, been an extra in an episode of Dr. Who. He gestured to his head. "The one where the cop opens his head like this," he said, drawing his hand across his forehead. "I had to stand there while he talked at me." Apparently he was part of an agency that provided cops and robbers (it had a cute name that I don't recall) but he apparently looks more like a cop.
Jimmy, it seemed, was a little drunk and didn't want to go to the hospital for observation, despite showing all signs of a major concussion. We wondered how different the signs of concussion are from the signs of being drunk, but figured the paramedics would be pretty darned familiar with this particular problem. His friend tried to help convince him, between standing in the street fretting with the rest of us.
Eventually, the ambulance took off with Jimmy, leaving the bike he was riding and his friend stuck with us. We gave the friend some bike lights so he wasn't breaking the law directly in front of the cops as he headed off to meet with his friends and tell them about the evening.
Meanwhile, we've got Jimmy's roomate's bike in the backyard, and no one's come to pick it up yet. Hopefully Jimmy's ok! I'm betting he doesn't remember much of what happened, but his friend wrote down our address so eventually someone will come. I hope.
This all happened around midnight. At 2am, we hear something else in the street and open the curtains to reveal... the city's emergency pothole repair crew?! We have one of those? They wave at us, look at the hole, then drive away. WTF?
It seems they'd gone for more tools. Sometime around 4am, Susan tells me, they came back and repaired the hole. Leaving many other holes around it, but at least none of those will eat an entire bike wheel.
So... yeah. Surreal Saturday.
no subject
Date: June 6th, 2011 08:05 pm (UTC)Interesting to compare your story to the handful of concussions I've witnessed, the victims all steadfastly refuse to take the trip to the hospital without plenty of coercion. I wonder if it's a defensive instinct, to want to go someplace cozy and quiet? (The way people with headaches retreat to a quieter place?)
In one particularly upsetting incident, a guy who flipped out on an icy sidewalk refused treatment and got into his SUV and drove home. Grounds for a citizen's arrest? The right to refuse medical treatment is a squirrely one when people exercise it.
-Jay
no subject
Date: June 8th, 2011 04:38 am (UTC)